


The New King

by SweetSamOfMine (AudreeJo)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Gen, Sam Has Powers, Sam-Centric, Telepathy, Uncomfortable Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-12
Updated: 2014-09-12
Packaged: 2018-02-17 03:52:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2295662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AudreeJo/pseuds/SweetSamOfMine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam is just now getting the hang of using the power of his new ....job.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The New King

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this ficlet when I received this prompt on Tumblr: "Sam + being a sexy king of creation or otherwise more powerful and hot than he has any right to be."

Sam perched sprawled across his throne, his legs haphazzardly crossed as he leaned back against the soft cushions, reading a book. His gold crown sat askewed on his head, causing his ruffled hair to fall across his cheek. He reached up to tuck the strands behind his ear absent-mindedly before turning the page, a content smirk on his lips. 

Dean was coming down the hall to the throne room. Sam no longer depended on his sense of hearing or smell or even of sight initially to anticipate situations. His psychic abilities were so keen, he could sense the movement, the thoughts, and even take the emotional temperature of everyone within a few hundred feet of him. And Dean’s tempertaure felt like it always did around him now: fearful, nervous, with a touch of uncertainty. That specific combination was basically Dean’s signature cologne, and Sam could catch wind of it from much farther away than many of his other subjects. 

Sam put his book aside and sat up more straight, uncrossing his legs and tightening the tie he had loosened earlier when he decided to relax for a bit. He generally lounged on the throne in a specially tailored navy or pin-striped suit during the day. As reluctant a ruler as Sam started out to be, he had now at least embraced the idea of looking  _professional_  on the job.

Just as Dean approached the closed door, it swung open on its own. Dean’s startled face appear through the doorway as he blinked, then stepped reluctantly into the room.  _I hate it when he does that!_

Sam arched an amused eyebrow at his brother as a grin broke across his face. Dean cleared his throat awkwardly, his eyes darting from Sam to the floor over and over until he was standing in front of the throne, apprehensively. A rumpled brow formed above Dean’s eyes as the silence grew and hung over the two of them. 

Sam cocked his head to one side, gesturing with a slender hand to show he was waiting. _"Yes?"_ he prompted.

"C’mon, I know you already know why I’m here."

"True," Sam conceded, with a shrug. "But you hate when I read your mind so I was giving you a chance to tell me anyway." There was humor in his voice, but also authority. He raised his brows expectantly. 

Dean sighed apprehensively but obeyed. “There’s word of a demon uprising to the North. Probably just a rumor since you shut’em all back in Hell, but… the rest of the court thinks it should be looked into.”

Sam stood, laying his crown across his book on the armrest of the throne. “Alright, then. Let’s go.” In a few strides, he was standing next to Dean.

Sam knew his brother didn’t enjoy going on jobs with him like he once did. There as no way he ever could, not after everything Dean had always hated and feared about Sam turned out the be what saved the world and made him its protector. But that didn’t mean Sam didn’t detect a little bit of excitement from his brother when they had the chance to hit the road together again. Jobs were so few and far between because of Sam’s ability to crush them that any investigation brought light to Dean’s face.

"You gonna wear that?" Dean asked before he could catch himself. 

"Sure, why not?" Sam inquired, staring down at him. He sensed Dean’s discomfort with their height difference, something that never used to bother him.

"I mean…?" Dean backpeddled. "Aren’t you a little over dressed?"

Sam rolled his eyes with a smile, walking towards the throne room door that opened on its own again. “No,” he said without looking back. “I won’t need to get my hands dirty.”


End file.
